Tag: Papi

Thursday’s Theme Music

After popping the appropriate meds, we woke up as humans on June 15, 2023, a Thursday. As none of us remembered popping the meds, except poor Gerard, all was well. A technical glitch saw the sky as green and the grass and trees were blue, but that was fixed. Everyone but Gerard was given another med to fix their memories.

It’s cool again in Ashlandia this morning, rising from the 40s F to the mid 50s F now. Blue sky now, completely unbroken by clouds. Last night was also clear of clouds and full of astronomical wonders, great to admire as I called Papi. The ginger lord had broken our agreement and was MIA for a while despite calls for his return. He showed up after two plus hours, tall up, happily greeting me as though nothing was amiss, asking for lovin’ and kibble. How could I scold that face? He was back and that mattered.

The Neurons have piped “Yer So Bad” (1989) by Tom Petty into the morning mental music stream. Yes, it’s about Papi. I told him, you’re so bad, and The Neurons said, “You got it, boss.” They always hear a order or request to start a song, whether one was given or not, but they never hear the order/request to stop. I always enjoyed this song’s lyrics about the singer’s sister and her marriage to a yuppie. Some of the later Travelin’ Wilburys songs reminded me of this song. Not a huge surprise, given that Petty is Charlie T. Wilbury, Jr., and Jeff Lynne, who played on the song and produced it, is Otis Wilbury.

Stay pos, fresh and chill. Use coffee. Coffee; it’s what’s for breakfast. Also good for snacks. Here’s the tune.

Adios

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Monday’s Theme Music

Good morning boys and girls and others. Thank you for inviting me. Happy to be here.

It’s Monday, you know. The day when the dead rise to drink coffee and hasten to work.

June 12, 2023. Ashlandia continues to thrive in a glorious stretch of weather. Cooled a little into the mid 80s yesterday, chilled in the low 50s F overnight, now is 68 F and marching toward a high in the upper 80s F. There’s still snow on Mt Ashland if you need a fix.

Papi, the ginger wonder, inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. In the morning mental music stream is playing some Neil Young & Crazy Horse with an electrified ditty from 1977 called “Like A Hurricane”. Papi was galloping about this morning, so I started with him. We were chasing each other around the rooms, hiding, springing out in ambush and sprinting away again. While I was winded, he was still going, prompting me to tell him he was a little orange hurricane. That gave The Neurons the opportunity they sought and here we are.

Stay pos, and be a little chill. I’m motoring on coffee, springing into the day. Here we go. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Papers, please. We need to check you papers. Don’t you know? It’s Sunday, June 11, 2023. We need to check your papers and see if you’re on the right date and have the correct authorizations for being on this date. You know how it is. You start on one day, then, without any fault on your part, you’re on another. Confusion sets in, forcing you to ask others, “What day is it? What’s the date?” I have a calendar on my way to keep me straight. My computer also shows the day and date. As does my Fitbit. And phone. So I can crosscheck what they claim. I mean, machines, am I right?

Sprimmer is still on tap in Ashlandia. Moody clouds of different sorts and backgrounds. Some block the sun, then the sun re-asserts itself and throws down a hearty blaze. 61 F now, we anticipate highs in the mid 80s. We’re rolling on toward that longest day in the northern hemi, the once called summer solstice. Longest in theory, in general, on average. Our longest day in Ashlandia generally takes places a few days after the ‘official’ date. I suppose it’s because we’re a little rural, and it takes time for news to reach us. Yes, even with computers.

Papi was lounging out by our front porch yesterday in the early evening. I heard people talking through the open window so I looked out. Women walking by had stopped to speak with Papi and admire him. Papi eyed them like an imminent threat. He’s not one for flirting with strangers. I’m about the only one he’s consistently warm with. My wife tries and Papi tries to let her, but the results are uneven.

Had it been the late Quinn, he would have dashed right out there, offering himself up. He was the friendliest and sweetest floof I’ve ever had. The late Boo would have bolted away as soon as he heard them coming. They would have seen him. Scheckter would’ve talked to them but not allow an approach. Most of the rest would have just shrugged them off. As Tucker did later, when he’d joined Papi on the front porch and the women came back down the street. He was completely indifferent to them.

The Neurons have installed “Wondrous Stories” by Yes from 1977 in my morning mental music stream. Started last night when I was watching telly. Had been reading, writing before that, with yardwork and housework mixed in. At that point I was thinking about stories and the book I’d just finished reading. Eventually, I just realizing that “Wondrous Stories” was playing in my head. A mellow tune, has sort of a renaissance sound, not unusual for Yes.

Stay pos. Enjoy your weather wherever you are. By the way, it’s Father’s Day in the U.S. I sent Dad a card and will call him later. He’s in San Antonio, Texas, so I need to adjust for his time and schedule when I make the call. They’re always out at this time. So, first, coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Okay, we’re back. It’s about half past coffee on a T-day morning. June 1, 2023. Looks like we made it. Well done. Give yourself a round of applause.

48 F outside in Ashlandia. Sunrise was 5:37 AM, about when I was scolding Papi in exasperation as he sang about his need to be free, never mind the cougars. A cool morning after a chilly night. Sunny, with clouds like sailing yachts cruising the space between the horizons. No visible snow. Need to walk down the street and look east to the higher els to see that. The thermometer will percolate up to the mid seventies today before the sun show shuts down and moves on to bring us another day.

Big news riding the US headlines is the debt ceiling deal passing the House. Who voted for it, who did not, he said – she said, who are the winners and losers, who lost political capital, who gained it. Reading this, The Neurons scoffed, snorted, chuckled, and dished up Aerosmith from 1974, “Same Old Song and Dance”, into the morning mental music stream for my musical merriment.

Breakfast has been et, coffee is prepared, and the day awaits. First, think I’ll read a bit. Stay pos. Coffee diem. Or sumpin’ like that. Here’s the band and their music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Pop quiz, students. It’s Saturday, May 27, 2023 in Ashlandia. Which of these things are not true:

a. Cloudy

b. Spring

c. High will be 78 F

d. Currently 61 F

e. All are true.

That’s right, it’s e in Ashlandia, although there is no e in Ashlandia.

My wife was worried about the cougar getting Papi last night. See, two nights ago, I called Papi in about elevenish. Dude was in his patio condo, but the cat was acting peculiar. Moving slow. Careful. Tail down. Like it was the anti-Papi, doing the opposite of the guy’s usual demeanor. I worried about his health. He usually comes in, gallops across the floor, talks to me, gets some lovin’, and eats. None of that happened, so I prepared him some cat food warm with hot water. Although interested, he showed no great enthusiasm. I coaxed him to his eating site, and he ate it all up. That’s good, right?

But he stayed silent and in. Talking with the other half, she suggested the cougar was seen or maybe Papi escaped something and had a close call. She really thought it was related to the cougar. Papi stayed in that night until dawn. Well, by midday, Papi was his ush, galloping about, tail up, chatting and eatin’.

Back to last night. “I want to keep him in,” she said. “I don’t want the cougar getting him.” So Papi was forced to remain inside. Verily, he was unpleased, talking to me about it in various tones throughout the night. Finally let him out at 6:45 AM, after sunrise. Not a good night sleep for me. Coffee is needed.

Interesting dreams, though. Still reviewing them. Many small dreams, tiny as webisodes.

Tina Turner’s death has The Neurons stuck back in time. Today we’re revisiting “We Are The World” from 1985 in the morning mental music stream. Written by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie, it was a charity single to raise money for famine relief in Africa. Had a who’s who of the United States pop culture stars at that time performing on it, and it was all captured on video. Forty-five pop stars were on hand; fifty were turned away. A few who were invited didn’t show.

Tina Turner was back in the spotlight in a big way, then, so she’s an early featured soloist. Anyway, that’s today’s song. Point after: I’d wondered how many of the performers have now passed away. Someone had already done the research for me. Tina was number ten. Not surprising. Song was done in 1985, after all. Thirty-eight years ago. Many of the performers were already middle-aged.

Side note: I was in Africa that year, participating in an exercise in Egypt’s desert for a month.

Stay pos, enjoy this day and make it memorable by having fun and getting it done, number one. Here’s the retro tune. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Spring has reclaimed Ashlandia. Clouds and blue sky out there mixing it up. 50 F now, 70 is possible, weather guides say with crossed fingers and a wink. Yesterday began damn chilly. Made me rethink my attire. So I dressed for an indoor concert, headed down the road ten miles, and voila, it’s 76, sunny, warm, and I’m overdressed.

Today I’m thinking I’ll dress for the blend. Shorts, polo shirt, light fleece. That’ll work. I can always change if it doesn’t. Talking with others about the projected temperature of 70 F, many proclaimed it as perfect weather. I like 72 F, myself.

Put my underwear on backwards yesterday. Didn’t realize it until a few hours into the day when a bathroom urge rose. Then, huh, WT…who dressed me this morning?

The concert yesterday was entertaining. Rogue Valley Symphony. We were special guests and given special access, etc., and munches, meeting with the band members and talking to them about their musical life and instruments. Makes you want to play, you know? Can’t say that too loud around them because they immediately offer to teach you how to play. Someone asked me what I did. Write, I answered, and ended up talking about that for fifteen minutes as musicians gathered to ask questions and listen. I had to gracefully extricate myself and turn the focus back onto music.

Papi has a new nickname. I often call him my little buddy, which is what the skipper of the SS Minnow used to call his mate, Gilligan. So I now sometimes refer to the ginger wonder as Gilligan. He’s picked up on it. Gave me a little tail swish in response. Might have been laughing, swearing, or shrugging.

Today’s music arrives via coffee thoughts. I was thinking about it and applied coffee to an old favorite song, “Cocaine”.

If you wanna hang out you’ve got to take her out
Coffee
If you wanna get down, down on the ground
Coffee

She don’t lie, she don’t lie, she don’t lie
Coffee

If you got bad news, you wanna kick the blues
Coffee
When your day is done and you wanna ride on
Coffee

Been singing that for decades, amusing myself, annoying others. Found a video of Eric Clapton playing it in 1988, backed by Mark Knopfler, Phil Collins, and Elton John. Hope you find it as satisfying as me.

We watched Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves last night at home on Paramount +. We enjoyed it and would recommend it. Fun, light fair, engaging, a little campy sometimes but nothing felt overplayed or overdone. Some small twists although most were visible a bit ahead of the scene, and several laugh out loud moments.

Here’s my coffee and the music. Stay pos and rule your Monday as best as you can. Never easy being in charge, especially when you’re trying to be in charge of yourself.

Here we go. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

The season dial switched back to spring from sprummer today. No blue sky. Only gray clouds lining the top of our existence box. Ashlandia is quiet, pensive, waiting for sumpin’ to break.

It’s May 21, Sunday, 2023. 64F out there. Feels like we’re sprinting for June. Like May all the sudden needs to get to a bathroom for some urgent business.

Today’s high will be a mere 75F. It’s a mere month until summer solstice lands in Earth’s northern hemi.

My stomach isn’t pleased this morning. It’s been elected to speak for the rest of the body, who are trying to organize and push forward an initiative to laze around today. Coffee has been ordered for all of them but the results from the first sips aren’t reassuring. Brain is still waking up and has no clue what’s going on. Eyes keep muttering, “Just another minute” and work on closing.

Witnessed a fierce mouse attack this AM. The mouse was being attacked. Toy critter. Papi, bored, was leading me through the house. I found one of his favorite mice toys in the designated cat toy drawer. Fifteen toy mice in there in different stages of destruction. His favorite is gray, filled with catnip, with a blue tail. I tossed it with perfect timing, bouncing it off a sofa cushion into his path. Well, it was on. Poor toy mouse kept trying to escape Papi’s murder mittens, diving under the coffee table (which rarely sees any coffee and is never given any) only to be dragged back out and thrown into the air. This lasted almost an entire minute before the exhausted floof stilled, paw on mouse, declaring, “Truce.”

Going to a by-invitation-only pre-concert this afternoon to meet the orchestra and get informed about how the magic of a concert is accomplished. We’re mystified about why we were selected but the wife was thrilled. I reminded her to be sure to take some heavy cash and the checkbook.

Today’s theme music is a pop/rock/soul ditty called “Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World Is Today)”. Put out by the Temptations in 1970, the lyrics against a firm, driving beat, still merits hearing.

People movin’ out, people movin’ in
Why? Because of the color of their skin
Run, run, run, but you sure can’t hide
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth
Vote for me and I’ll set you free
Rap on, brother, rap on
Well, the only person talkin’ ’bout “Love thy brother”
Is the preacher
And it seems nobody’s interested in learnin’
But the teacher

[Pre-Chorus: Dennis]
Segregation, determination, demonstration, integration Aggravation, humiliation, obligation to our nation

[Chorus]
Ball of confusion
Oh, yeah
That’s what the world is today

The sale of pills are at an all-time high
Young folks walkin’ ’round with their heads in the sky
Cities aflame in the summertime
And oh, the beat goes on
Evolution, revolution, gun control, the sound of soul
Shooting rockets to the moon, kids growin’ up too soon
Politicians say more taxes will solve everything
And the band played on

h/t to Genius.com

Well, that’s it for me. Stay pos, enjoy the day as best you can, carpe something. Here’s the music. More coffee, quick.

Cheers

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Alexa said, “Your cat, Papi, is at the front door asking to enter the house.” He answered, “Open the door and let Papi in, please.”

“Letting Papi in,” Alexa replied.

It’s really the best thing that Alexa does for him.

And then he woke up.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

The sun bulled its way over the horizon and into Ashlandia’s sky a few ticks before six AM. It’s Tuesday, May 9, 2023, and 45 degrees F out there. Rain deliveries through the past five days have encouraged the town to show off multiple greens. Jade, emerald, pine, leafy, grassy — the greens flourish under the immaculately blue sky. Not promising anything, the weather criers say, but it’ll be in the upper sixties today. The sun’s end time in Ashlandia’s environs will be after eight this evening.

Went walking yesterday, a favorite pastime. Two miles, one and a half of it in steady rain. Lovely. Got home wet with rain and sweat. Lovely. Felt good to be back in the rain and feel the sweat dripping and rolling, plastering my hair under my hat.

I continue scoring on the dream front. Last night brought visits from Sean Penn and Brad Pitt. Woke up chuckling to myself, mumbling, that was a great dream. Then I went through it, writing it all down after I got up, one of three dreams covered in today’s dream journal entry.

The cats are adjusting to the improved weather. So are other cats. Thus there was floof showdown on the front porch. A young gray cat has been showing up around the neighborhood for the last two months. Seems healthy, but just going around doing feline business. They’ve encountered Papi the ginger wonder before, but apparently last night was a surprise for the two and face to face. It’s post event speculation for us. We only know that the floof warnings went off like air-raid sirens for the Battle of Britain. Dashing to the front door, we saw the two. Of course, Tucker, the black and white lord of thunder heard it all and galloped out, too, shouting, “To battle.” Seeing the situation, gray cat departed. Papi pursued but lost the trail. He and Tucker took up stations to ensure they’d be there, should the interloper return.

Today’s music comes from “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”. We’ve been watching it recently and have plowed into the third season. The song, by the Poppy Family, is “Where Evil Grows” and was put out over fifty years ago. I heard it on the radio a few times back then before it disappeared. But it shows up on television shows and movies once in a while, never on the radio, that I ever hear. Anyway, hearing it enlivened The Neurons, and they plugged it into the morning mental music stream, advertising it as nostalgia. The song’s writer is Terry Jacks, better known for “Which Way You Going, Billy” and “Seasons in the Sun”.

Ah, the train is rolling through, tooting its own horn, ensuring everyone is aware of its royal self as it rumbles through town. Stay pos, keep living the good life and fighting the good fight, wherever it may take you. My efforts are taking me to the coffee. Here’s the tune. Give it a listen. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Using my keen powers of deduction, I observed that yesterday was Tuesday. Therefore, today must be Wednesday.

I reported my results to the chief. She downed whisky-infused black coffee that was probably brewed before the first Gemini rocket launch and gave me a gimlet eye. “Not bad, rookie.”

Today is Wednesday, 5/3/2023. The temperature God is blessing us with a 47 F temperature. The rain God is misting us off and off, while the sun God winks in and out behind the cloud God’s offerings. “We expect it to reach 65 today,” a weather dude tells me on the QT. A little after six bells was rung, the sun rolled over Ashlandia’s horizon albeit beyond a cloud wall. We’ll hear eight bells in the evening before the sun lives us in her wake.

The felines have been fed, and approve of their morning meal. It’s a wet meal enlivened with a few tablespoons of warm water. They love the combo. Tucker’s repast includes his meds. In fact, that’s how the warm morning meal was established, by medicating previous cats who needed meds but battled taking them.

Gordon Lightfoot passed this week. The Canadian musician/singer/songwriter’s end of life probably isn’t news to you, but the knowledge was swirling around in my thoughts, along with weather observations, so The Neurons spooned “Early Morning Rain” by GL into my morning mental music stream. A vote was taken with the cats and it was chosen as today’s theme music.

Coffee is almost done as I’m behind schedule this morning, a victim of helping a friend. Stay pos, and be the master of your domain. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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